


Michael: Tormented

by slaysvamps



Series: Michael Moorecock Chronicles [3]
Category: World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: F/M, Players Guide to the Sabbat, Vampire: The Masquerade - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 14:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20211652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slaysvamps/pseuds/slaysvamps
Summary: In the hands of the Sabbat, Michael remembers his embrace.





	Michael: Tormented

_And from your broken veins_  
_I will drink my fill_  
_ Incubus Succubus – Song of Siren _

### Mexico, Spring, 1999

In the dark his unblinking eyes looked across the room toward where he knew the door to be. The stale air made his dry eyes itch, but still he did not blink. He could not, for the stake through his Kindred heart.

_You will help us, Michael,_ the tall dark vampire had said. Once Michael’s pride would have denied that until Gehenna rained fire down upon him, but now he was beginning to believe it was true.

His chest ached around the open wound that held the shaft of wood like a lover. He wasn’t sure what hurt his pride more, the wound itself or the hole the stake had made in his Armani suit.

Once Michael had been full of foolish pride, pride in himself, in the accomplishments he had made, in the woman he had chosen to share his life. Then a stranger had attacked in the night and changed everything he had ever believed in.

The smell of blood was heavy in the air, bringing his thirst to the forefront of his mind. Even the stake through his heart could not stop his body’s craving for blood. The hunger coursed through him, always on the edges of his mind no matter how hard he tried to fight it. He had vowed long ago that he would not kill mindlessly no matter the provocation, not ever again. The cross that still hung on the thin chain around his neck was a constant reminder of what could happen if he lost control. As if he needed the reminder.

Some of the blood smell was coming from his wounds, but not all of it. A small noise from his left reminded him that he was not alone in his prison. From the sound it might have been rats, but Michael knew it was not.

“A light,” a woman’s voice muttered. “There has to be a light in this fucking room somewhere. Ah.” Suddenly a bare bulb in the ceiling glowed to life. It was a dim light, but still the girl covered her eyes for a moment to give them time to adjust. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders in dirty strands and her clothes were the finest quality beneath the dirt and grime that covered them.

Almost, she reminded him of Brenda.

“Akari said that he was alive,” the girl whispered to herself as she studied Michael’s unmoving form. “Can you help me?” she asked him, not really expecting an answer. “He said you could free me if I pulled the stake out.”

Silently he begged her to stop, pleaded with her to leave him alone, but she did not hear, and he could not stop her. Carefully she reached out and put her hand on the six inches of rowan wood that jutted from his chest and slowly, inch by inch, she pulled it from his flesh.

Hunger raged, and for a moment Michael did not even feel the pain of the wood leaving his body. He rolled away from her gasping for breath as if the air he didn’t need would ease his thirst. It did not, could not.

### Sacramento, Spring, 1992

Michael still remembered what it was like to be human. It nearly the end of his senior year at CSU and Lois Kerr, his girlfriend, was waiting for him at the library. He was late.

The campus was dark that night, and he was in too much of a hurry to pay attention to what moved in the shadows. After all, this was a college campus, and many students were eager to seek out those shadows where they could be alone. It was the last mistake of his mortal life.

A snarl from the darkness made him turn a moment before the creature was upon him. They fell to the ground in a tangle, but before Michael could push the beast away, he felt a sharp pain on the side of his neck. The pain quickly faded to irrelevance as bliss filled his mind. Suddenly it wasn’t important to fight anymore, and he relaxed in the grip of his murderer.

For a long time, Michael simply ceased to exist. He floated in blackness, lost, but eventually he surfaced with hunger burning inside of him. He remembered being attacked, but the specifics were hazy, almost dream-like. Glancing at his watch he realized he was nearly two hours late for his date with Lois.

Knowing she wouldn’t have waited that long for him, he stumbled across campus to her dorm. Fumbling awkwardly up the stairs, he made his way to her room and knocked softly on the door.

Lois was angry when she first opened the door, but then she got a good look at his pale face and the blood on his mouth. She pulled him into her room and guided him to the edge of the bed.

“What happened, Mike?” she asked solicitously. “You look like death warmed over.”

He tried to chuckle, but it was hard for him to concentrate. He could smell the blood inside of her, and it was all he could to not to run from the room. “I think I was attacked,” he said after a long moment.

She pulled him into her arms, and he clutched at her, part of him wanting to push her away, and another part, and hungry part, wanted to pull her closer. The pulse on Lois’ neck was like a beacon to him, and he couldn’t resist putting his lips over the throbbing skin.

Michael could never be sure what happened next, but the vague things he could remember were like a nightmare that he couldn’t get out of his mind. Suddenly he felt something sharp against the inside of his lips and then a warm rich taste filled his mouth. He could feel the imprint of the cross Lois always wore against his chin, and the limpness of her body in his arms.

The next rational thought Michael had was to wonder why Lois didn’t seem to be breathing. While she still felt warm against him, her skin was cooling rapidly. Then he noticed the wounds on her neck and tasted her blood on his lips.

Lois Kerr had been his first kill, his only accidental kill, but that didn’t make the memory an easier to bear. In memory of all that he had lost he had taken the cross necklace that had hung around her neck and disappeared into the night.

### Mexico, Spring, 1999

“Mister, are you all right?” the girl asked frantically. “Jesus, I how the hell can you be alive?”

Michael coughed and tried to ignore her nearness. The blood hunger swelled inside of him until it was all he knew; all he could think of. “Get back!” he ordered.

He heard her stumble away and fought to drive the scent of her from his nostrils. If he didn’t gain control of himself, he knew he would feast on her blood until there was nothing left.

It was a long moment before he felt he could turn without attacking her. She had backed into a corner and was staring at him as if he’d spouted horns on top of his head. He couldn’t blame her wariness, but the situation was far worse than she knew. If he didn’t find a way to get away from her, she was going to die.

“What’s your name?” he asked in as even a voice as he could manage.

“Tabitha,” she whispered. “Are you all right?”

“No,” he told her. “I know this is a little freaky, but I’m going to try and get us out of here.”

She didn’t look like she believed him. “What’s wrong with your mouth?” she demanded, taking a step toward him.

With a whispered curse, Michael realized that his fangs had dropped. To know that he’d lost that much control was yet another blow to his pride, one he didn’t need. He ignored her and strode to the door of the cell, which he found both locked and reinforced.

“I’ve already tried that,” she admonished him. “Akari said you would help me. You’re not helping.”

Michael couldn’t stop the growl that came from his chest at the sound of his captor’s name. “You shouldn’t listen to the man who put you in here,” he warned her. “He’s trying to get you killed.”

She looked around the cell in amazement. “Who’s gonna kill me in here?”

Closing his eyes, Michael breathed in the sweet scent of her blood. He felt the prick of fangs against his lip and knew he had to find a way out soon. “Me,” he whispered, pulling on the door, hoping against hope that the lock or the bars would give way. It didn’t.

He didn’t expect to feel her hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t prepared for the wave of thirst that swept over him, although he should have been. Faster than she could see he pushed her away from him. “Stay away from me,” he growled.

Her temper snapped and she retaliated with a sharp slap across the face. “Don’t touch me,” she commanded in an icy voice, one used to being obeyed.

The blow broke what little control Michael had left. Her nearness was intoxicating, his hunger overwhelming. In less than one of her heartbeats, he held her trapped against the wall with his body. She screamed when he opened his mouth and she saw his fang clearly in the dim light, but he paid her no heed.

His fangs sunk into her neck with surprising ease, and as soon as the skin was broken, her struggles ceased. Warm sweet blood flowed over his tongue and down his throat, easing his thirst in the only manner possible. The beast inside him relished her tiny moans and movements, even as the man cringed from what he was doing.

Slowly, relentlessly he drained her body of life. When the last drop of blood left her body, he let her lifeless corpse sink to the ground and stood staring down at it, regret filling his mind, his soul.

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” a deep voice said from behind the bars that blocked the doorway.

Michael turned his head and fought to restrain the beast. He’d tried more than once to get out and allowing himself to frenzy would do nothing but spend more blood he couldn’t afford to lose.

“What do you want from me, fiend?” he demanded.

Akari laughed. “What I have wanted from the beginning. Your soul.”

**Author's Note:**

> My gaming group has always played fast and loose with the White Wolf rules, including lots of things we see in various TV shows, movies and books. We were playing mostly in the late 1990s and early 2000s so we use/used the editions available at that time. 
> 
> We also threw all the 'By Night' rules out of the window and created our own rulers in our cities. Some of the cannon White Wolf characters may show up from time to time, but don't expect them to be like the books. 
> 
> I'll be separating these stories both by character and by city, so some stories may be listed under multiple Series under my profile here on AO3. 
> 
> If you're interested in learning more about our world 'After Dark' please visit my website at www.whendarknessfalls.net.


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